Making Things Right
by fer1213
Summary: After the end of "Not Fade Away" (AtS series ender), Buffy comes to help defeat the demons--with a SB spin.


This is my offering for the "And Then..." Post-Not Fade Away (AtS Series Ender) ficathon.

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**Making Things Right**

Buffy cracked her head against the window as the airplane she was on lurched violently. "What the hell was that?" she said under her breath as she rubbed the resulting lump. The plane jerked again. Buffy clutched her armrests. She felt one of them break beneath her hand.

"Miss? Miss? What was that?" she heard a passenger up front ask the flight attendant.

"Just some turbulence, sir," was the answer.

When the plane lurched again, Buffy's head slammed against her headrest. _This is turbulence?_ she thought. _It feels like something's hitting the plane with a baseball bat._

She turned to look out her window to see if they were flying through some kind of storm. The sky was dark with flashes of light illuminating the clouds and the airplane's wing. It seemed to Buffy like a hell of a lot of turbulence for so little lightning.

"Folks," the captain said, coming over the intercom. "We're experiencing some nasty turbulence, but we'll be through it shortly and will get you to Los Angeles safely."

Buffy heard the irritated voices of the other passengers as they absorbed the captain's news. She checked her watch. With all the delays she'd encountered flying from Rome to London and then from London to New York and then New York to L.A…. She'd be lucky if this flight landed before 2 a.m.

The plane jolted again and the lights in the cabin flickered. "Holy shit!" someone behind Buffy yelled. "There's a-- What the hell _is_ that thing out there?!"

Buffy quickly looked out her window again. It looked like… She laughed at herself and rubbed her tired eyes. She looked again and sat up straight. There was a _dragon_ flying next to the plane. She touched her fingertips to the window as the dragon turned its very large head to look right at her.

"I _told_ Giles and his stupid apocalypse-predicting coven that I should've taken an earlier flight," Buffy grumbled as she quickly unbuckled her seatbelt and stood up.

"Miss, get back in your seat!" the flight attendant yelled at her.

Buffy stepped into the aisle. "I need to talk to the captain," she tried to explain. "There's something out there he should know about." As she gestured toward the window she saw the dragon's tail hit the left engine. The plane immediately listed to that side and then swooped, sending Buffy flying down the aisle and into the cockpit door. She vaguely heard the concerned voice of the flight attendant as she cracked her head against the metal.

"Now I know how Giles feels," she thought before losing consciousness.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

When Buffy opened her eyes again it was to flashing red lights zinging around the dark interior of the plane. She was stretched out on the floor in front of the cockpit with some kind of cushion under her head. Someone—an EMT?—leaned over and poked his finger in her eye.

"Ow!" Buffy said, jerking away from him.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I was trying to open your lids to see if you have a concussion," he said.

Buffy moved away from him and pushed herself off the floor and into a standing position. He grabbed her elbow to steady her, but Buffy shook him off. "I'm a really quick healer," she said. "Where are we?"

"Dockweiler Beach State Park," the man said. "Your plane made an emergency landing here. We've evacuated everyone and were about to take you off as well."

Buffy felt the back of her head. _Oh. Big lumpage._ "And the dragon?" she asked, fingering the bump gently.

"The what, Miss?" the man said.

"The dr-- Uh, never mind. Wait!" she said as he moved toward the emergency slides. He turned back to look at her. "Was there any kind of, um, apocalypse-type thing tonight?"

The EMT stared at her for a second. Then he quickly moved back to her side and took her elbow again. "We really need to get your head checked out," he said, propelling Buffy to the slide.

xxxxxxxxxxx

Once they were on the sand, Buffy allowed him to lead her to one of the rescue vehicles that were parked in a semi-circle around the plane. She noticed other passengers being examined or standing around in small groups looking pretty shell-shocked. She waited patiently while the EMT flashed a little penlight in her eyes, made her follow his fingers and count them and asked her who the president of the United States was. After poking the back of her head a bit, he pronounced her seemingly concussion-free, but highly recommended she let herself be admitted to the hospital overnight for observation. Buffy smiled and patted his hand.

"Hospitals and I?" she said. "Well, let's just leave it at a big 'no'."

She hopped down off the edge of the truck, smoothed her long blonde hair and looked up into the night sky. "Now where would I be if I were a dragon?" she mumbled to herself.

"Miss? I really think—"

"Thanks," Buffy said, cutting him off. "Really. I know you're just doing your job. But now I have to do mine."

She gave him back the blanket he'd wrapped her in and set off down the beach.

She'd gone a while, watching the sky, when she realized she had no idea where she was, let alone where the dragon was. Suddenly she remembered the cell phone in her back pocket. She pulled it out, preparing to call someone—anyone—for some help, but found the display thingy cracked and the phone dead. She was on her own, amazed that only three days before she'd been gently telling Marco that she wasn't in the mood for clubbing that night. At first, her affair with the infamous Immortal had been a lot of fun—hot, exciting and sexy. He'd made her feel beautiful, something she hadn't felt in a long time. But lately, she'd been restless and the endless rounds of partying they'd been doing hadn't made that feeling go away.

Then the phone call came from Giles, telling her Angel and his people were in trouble—apocalyptic trouble, of course. It was May, after all. Giles said the coven had contacted him. That Angel had taken on the Senior Partners at Wolfram & Hart and, though Giles wasn't necessarily sure this was a bad thing, they were sure to be squashed like beetles. That he was merely keeping her, as the senior slayer, apprised of the situation. What, if anything, did she want to do about it?

Buffy had actually hesitated. Not for long because no one knew better than she that apocalypses didn't give you a lot time for indecision. But, yeah. She'd had to think about it. Think about how Angel had been working for the evil law firm to end all evil law firms for the last year. Think about what it would mean for her to see him again, especially after her whole speech to him and after she actually acknowledged her feelings for Spike…

And that was a whole other level of pain she wasn't going to poke with a stick.

So she'd started hopping planes and now here she was. Back in California, lost on a beach, looking for a dragon. Not knowing what exactly she'd do when she found the thing.

Finally, Buffy crested a dune and saw streetlights. And burning houses. And the damn dragon, in flight, spitting fire at the freaked-out people running this way and that as they tried to get away from it.

"Got you," Buffy said as she started running.

Fire trucks were screaming around the corner as Buffy reached the street. She looked around for a weapon, anything she could use to distract and divert giant, purplish and scaly. She spotted a shovel in someone's yard and ran for it.

The weight of the shovel felt good in her hand as she tried to figure out how to get up high enough to attract the dragon's attention. The firefighters were busy struggling with the hoses and the burning homes, leaving their trucks basically abandoned. Suddenly Buffy wondered if she could hijack a ladder from one of their trucks.

The dragon dove at the firefighters and they doused it with the hose. "Bad move," Buffy said as she made her way around a truck. Sure enough, the dragon screamed and grabbed the hose in its claws, yanking it and several of the men into the air. Other firefighters ran to the hydrant, but were knocked down the street by a powerful stream of water as the hose thrashed in the dragon's grip.

Buffy squashed the panicked feeling rising from her belly. She found a ladder, but had no clue how to make it do the extend thing. In frustration, she took the shovel and swung it back, preparing to smash it against the hapless truck. Instead, she connected with something solid behind her. Something in a black leather duster. Something with white-blond hair.

"Should've known you'd be here, Slayer," Spike said as Buffy stared open-mouthed at him. "Watch where you're swinging that thing. And what exactly did you think a shovel was going to do to the fire-breathing one?"

"Spike?" Buffy said, dropping the shovel to the pavement. "Wha-- Is that really you?"

"Oh, like Andrew didn't tell you Angel and I were traipsing all over Rome…" He stopped, noticing her wide-eyes and blank expression. "He _didn't_ tell you," he said. "Now there's a surprise."

"My God. You're _alive_?" Buffy finally said.

"Well, technically, no. But, yeah, I'm back."

"How long? And Andrew and Angel know? Who else knows? When were you going to pick up a phone and tell me?"

"Well, at first I couldn't pick up anything. Came back all incorporeal. But don't you think after we kill the dragon would be a better time to have this conversation, love?"

"You're here chasing the dragon," Buffy said, still stunned.

"Well, yeah. Me and Angel, we been chasing this beastie for two days now."

"Two days? Wait. I thought the apocalypse was going down tonight! Stupid coven."

"Is that why you came? Well you-- Behind you, Buffy!" Spike grabbed her and threw them both to the ground as the dragon, still flinging the now-empty hose, swooped down over them. She heard the leather of Spike's coat tear as the dragon skimmed a claw over it.

"Bollocks. Not the coat again," Spike said. "Bloody bastard. He's playing with us."

"It's a he?" Buffy asked. "And this is playing?"

Spike lifted off of her to look at her face. "He could have easily toasted us, love. So yeah, I call dive-bombing us instead playing."

She reached up and touched his swollen face. He was real. He was here. She wanted to kiss him. Right before she killed him. "You look like hell," she said.

"Should have seen me two days ago. Least now I can open both eyes. Killing all the demons of hell has a tendency to bruise."

She opened her mouth to ask questions, but Spike jumped up and offered her his hand. "No time to chat, Slayer. Still got a dragon on the loose."

"Weapons?" Buffy asked after letting him pull her to her feet. Spike pulled a sword out from under his coat. "Convenient," she said.

"Spike!" Spike and Buffy both turned at the sound of the shout. Angel came racing around the truck, his own sword in hand. "He's gotta land soon and—oh. Hi, Buffy," he said before doing a double-take. "Oh! Spike, it's Buffy! Here!"

"Yeah, got that already, mate."

"What are you doing here, Buffy?" Angel asked her, shifting uncomfortably.

"I thought I was here to help you avoid an apocalypse. But apparently I'm late to the party," she said. She put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes, looking him over. He was beat up even worse than Spike. "We will talk. Later," she told him. "Now let's kill this thing."

"We need to lure it away from these people," Angel said.

"I just came from the beach. Emergency landing there courtesy of our not-so-mythical creature. But the area back behind these houses was pretty deserted. Maybe we can shoo it out there."

"And how do you propose to do that?" Spike asked.

Buffy looked around. "With those," she said, pointing to the rocks used in the landscaping of one of the lawns. "Grab a bunch," she directed. "We can throw them at him, make him angry enough to chase us."

"Um, and the breathing fire thing?" Spike reminded her. "Think he won't flambé us for pissing him off?"

"Got a better idea?" Buffy asked.

"Well, no. Just saying, is all."

"Let's just do it already," Angel said. "I think he's getting tired of fooling with the firefighters."

All three quickly loaded their pockets with the stones. Buffy let the first one fly, hitting the dragon right between the eyes. It stopped shaking the hose and dropped it, focusing on her.

"Running would be a good thing right about now," she said. They took off, turning every once in a while to throw more stones at the beast. It was definitely following them. And also shooting flames at them.

"Just a little further!" Buffy yelled.

They dove off the top of the dune to the sand below. As they scrambled to their feet, the dragon landed in front of them.

"Was he always this big?" Buffy asked no one in particular.

"You keep pelting him with the rest of the stones while I sneak around his other side," Angel told Buffy and Spike. "Keep him occupied. I'm ending this now."

Spike looked at Buffy. "Ready, love?" She nodded and they let the rocks fly.

"Over here, you poofter!" Spike yelled, waving his arms at the dragon. Buffy threw a rock right into its nostril, making it rear back. As it did, Angel came around its other side and drove his sword deep into its soft belly.

Angel jumped back and cracked his knuckles. "Piece of cake," he said to the other two.

"Uh, no. No cake," Buffy said, pointing at the still living and now raging dragon. It rose on its hind legs, screeching and flapping its wings, stirring up the sand. Buffy pulled the neck of her shirt up over her mouth and nose and grabbed the sword from Spike's hand. She spun and dodged the flames coming from the dragon's mouth before driving the weapon deep into the dragon's belly. She then pulled out Angel's sword as the dragon clawed at her and stuck it in the dragon's throat. The giant beast froze as Buffy stepped away from it. A flying kick from Spike sent it tumbling over backwards, its head landing in the ocean.

Buffy nodded at Spike and turned to Angel. "Now we can talk about cake."

"You're hurt, Slayer," Spike said, touching her shoulder. She suddenly felt the stinging in her arm and looked down to find her sleeve and a good section of skin missing. Blood dripped down her fingertips.

"Oh that?" Buffy said. "Just a scratch."

Spike caught her as she collapsed.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When she came to again, Buffy found herself in a bed in an unfamiliar room. Her arm and hand were completely bandaged and throbbed painfully. She pushed herself into a sitting position with her good arm and looked around. "Unconscious twice in one day," she said to the empty room. "I am so out of shape."

There was a tap at the door. "Come in," she called. Angel stepped into the room.

"Where's Spike?" Buffy asked him. "And why the hell wasn't I told that he was back?"

"Spike's—around," Angel said evasively.

"Around where? And where's the rest of your team? Where are we anyway?"

"Buffy, you need to take it easy. You've lost a lot of blood and had a pretty big shock. I'll try to answer your questions if you'll just calm down."

"Calm down? Okay, Angel. You tell me how calm _you'd_ be if you were in my position."

Angel's voice was cold and hard when he spoke again. "I've lost the most important people in my life this last year—two of them just in the last few days. I can't deal with your temper tantrums right now."

"I'm sorry Angel, but it's not like I haven't lost people too."

"I know that, Buffy. I do," Angel said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "But, God… Cordy died earlier this year. Wes was killed a few days ago. You didn't know them, but my friends Fred and Gunn died as well. And Illyria…"

Buffy put a hand over his and squeezed, not having the right words.

"Before you, I never let myself really care about anyone. It was all pain. I forgot that for a while. I won't forget it again." He lifted his head. "You're in my hotel, the Hyperion. Spike asked us all not to tell you he was back. But then when we heard you were in trouble…"

"When was I in trouble?" Buffy asked.

"The Immortal. We thought he had you under some kind of spell. We went to Rome, Spike and I, to help you. Only to find out you were willingly dating the guy."

"That's none of your business," Buffy said. She lifted her hand off of his and sat back against the headboard. "You had no right to have me followed."

"I know that. Now."

"I need to talk to Spike," she said.

"He said he didn't contact you because he never really thought he had a chance with you," Angel said, standing up. "I'd hoped he was right about that. I know he's changed, Buffy, but he's not the one for you."

"And how do you know that, Angel? He's not you. He's been there for me. With me. My God, he got his _soul_ for me." She stopped suddenly. "He still does have that, doesn't he? The soul?"

Angel looked up at the ceiling before giving her a sharp nod.

"Well, that makes things—easier. What we had, Angel, it was… It was intense. And at one point I thought it was all I ever wanted. But a lot's changed since then. We're different people than we were five years ago. And I know you don't want to hear this—and God knows I don't want to be having this conversation with you—but there's something real between Spike and me. Something I need."

Angel turned stiffly and went to the door. He pulled it open, but hesitated before going through. "I'll tell him you want to see him," he said, his voice tight and angry.

"Angel," Buffy said, but he ignored her and closed the door behind him.

"Oh, that went well," Buffy said to the empty room as she blinked back tears.

She twisted the covers around her unhurt hand, waiting for Spike. After a half hour passed with no sign of him, she dragged herself out of bed to go look for him. When she opened the door to her room, she found him standing out in the hallway in just his black t-shirt and jeans, his ruined coat nowhere in sight.

"How long have you been there?" she asked him.

"Forever, it seems," he said.

"Will you come inside?" she asked. "I have questions. And I think we have a lot to talk about."

She stepped back and he came into the room, not looking at her. She waved him to a chair as she sat on the edge of the bed. They were quiet, neither knowing where to begin.

"You really didn't believe me, did you?" Buffy finally asked.

The expression on his face made her heart hurt. "Couldn't, Buffy. Part of me thought, 'She's saying this because you're toast, mate.' Another part of me knew that if I believed you, I wouldn't be able to stay down there and finish the job."

"But Spike, part of you also had to know I never say those words lightly, that I've never said them when I didn't really believe I meant them."

"And I'd know this how?" he asked.

She softly laughed at herself. "Good point," she said ruefully. She took a deep breath. "I meant it, Spike. I mean it still."

"Oh, right. That's why you were off cuddling with the Immortal."

"I thought you were _dead_," she said, getting mad. "I grieved for you, you idiot. For eight months I worked to rebuild the council and grieved. That's it! And then one morning I woke up and thought, 'Spike would be so pissed at me for letting my life just happen.' Especially since you gave up yours so I and the others could live. So, yeah, I started dating."

"You started dating the bloody _Immortal_," Spike said.

"Oh, I get it," Buffy said.

"You get what? What is it you get?"

"You're jealous. You don't want me but you don't want anyone else to have me either."

"I damn well _do_ want you. It's _you_ who doesn't want _me_."

"I love you, asshole!"

"And I love you, you stupid bint!"

"Good!" she yelled, standing.

"Bloody great!" He stood too.

"Then kiss me already."

He made a soft sound of relief before doing just that. Buffy wrapped her good arm around his neck and kissed him back, hard and possessively. She'd leave no doubt in his mind about her feelings for him this time.

Spike picked her up and laid her down on the bed, covering her body with his. Their kisses turned soft, lips rubbing together. Her fingers danced over his bruised but still beautiful face.

"Watch the cheekbone, love. Think it's a bit shattered," he said with a little wince.

"I'll kiss it and make it better."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

They undressed each other slowly, kissing each bruise and cut as they were uncovered. When they were finally skin to skin, Spike buried his face in her neck and just held her.

"Dreamed about this," he mumbled against her skin. "Never imagined it'd come true, though."

Buffy held him close with her good arm, running her fingers through his hair. "It doesn't seem real, does it?" she said.

He lifted his head and looked into her eyes. "But it is, isn't it? Real?"

"It is."

He kissed her then and she spread her legs to let him inside. He entered her slowly, letting her adjust to him. He filled her, Buffy realized. It felt right.

They moved together, finding their familiar rhythm quickly. "God, Buffy," Spike said as he stroked into her. "No one. There's no one but you."

Buffy ran her hands over his lean body, feeling his muscles bunch and relax. His skin was silky and cool to her touch. Their bodies fit so well together. Every time Spike pushed into her, she felt it. The way the size of him never overwhelmed her or made her feel suffocated. The curve of his cock as it brushed against her swollen clit. The way he knew what she needed next. How she wasn't afraid to tell him when he didn't.

Spike covered her mouth with his, drinking her in. He moved his hand between them to rub her to orgasm. It didn't take much before Buffy was shaking under him, the muscles inside her grasping at him. He sped up his strokes and came soon after her, shouting his release against her breast. She cradled him there as their bodies calmed.

"I missed you, Spike. So much sometimes that I thought a part of me had died with you," she admitted. "To see you again… To have you back… I can't…"

He raised his head and touched a finger to her lips. "I'm so sorry, love. Sorry I doubted you. Sorry I didn't call you. Sorry we wasted even more time."

"I'm still mad, you know," she said, though the hand stroking his back was gentle. "That you let me believe you were dead for so long. Were you ever planning to tell me?"

Spike moved up to rest his head next to hers on the pillow. His fingertips traced patterns on her stomach. "Honestly thought you were lost to me, Buffy. Especially after seeing you in Rome. You looked so happy. Didn't want to ruin that. Well, at first I did. Meant to, even. But then someone stole our head and… Well, that's a story for another time."

Buffy laughed. "I look forward to it."

"Should," he said. "Damn good story, even if you'll be laughing mostly at my expense."

"There's still a lot to talk about," Buffy said. "What you've been doing all this time, about the new council, about Wolfram & Hart and what will happen next since Angel has pissed off the powers of hell. About Angel himself."

"We will. Talk. But later, yeah?"

Buffy pressed her face to his. "I love you, Spike."

She felt his smile against her mouth. "I believe you," he whispered. "Never let you forget it."

She kissed him, knowing she wouldn't.

**END**


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